Upon a Moonlit Night
by Dragovian Knight
Summary: Dragon Quest VIII. Postgame. Minor spoilers. Angelo x Jessica: 'The only one comparing you to your brother is you.'


Upon a Moonlit Night

Jessica leaned her head back against the house, giving in to the headache which had been plaguing her for the past three days. Above her, stars glinted like chips of ice in the frosty air, a welcome change from the overly-hot, overly-crowded, overly-loud study she'd just escaped.

She didn't understand how her mother could run the household with an iron fist, yet be unable to make even the most basic preparations for a celebration held every year. And it absolutely baffled her that, until she'd asked how plans for the autumn festival were proceeding, her mother hadn't mentioned there _were_ no plans.

A dark figure rounded the corner of the house, and she tensed until the glint of starlight on pale hair reassured her it was Angelo, not someone who needed a decision, opinion, or the last shreds of her civility. He leaned against the wall beside her, wrapped in a wine-colored cloak which reminded her she was dressed for indoors and not out, and watched the sky deepen from dark blue to black.

"You look tired," he said finally.

"Alistair used to deal with things like organizing festivals." Jessica sighed. "He made it look easy."

"By this time next year, you'll make it look easy, too. For now, though, come take a walk with me before you assault someone."

"I can't. As soon as I go inside..."

"So don't go inside." He pushed away from the wall and held the cloak open invitingly. "I'm fairly certain I can keep you from freezing."

Jessica scowled; she should have known Angelo's offer would be motivated by something other than friendship. "I don't have time for this. The autumn festival's in two weeks."

"We're going to make time." He caught her wrist and tugged her toward him. "And I'd rather you didn't insist on freezing, as I'm getting cold just looking at you."

She yanked her arm free. "I'm fine."

He shook his head and wrapped the cloak around her, pulling her against his side. "Now you're fine," he said, tucking the fabric into her hand, and the arm which had guided the cloth retreated, his fingers settling light and impersonal on her shoulder.

She glared up at him, but made no move to escape the warmth. "You are the most infuriating—"

"Yell at me after you've stopped shivering."

The alternative of going inside kept her from objecting. Instead, she said, "If we walk to the top of the hill, we should be able to watch the moonrise."

She hadn't considered how much more bite the wind would have away from the shelter of the house, and by the time they could see a soft glow on the horizon, she was leaning against him voluntarily. To her surprise, he didn't say or do anything to take advantage of the situation, and she found herself relaxing for the first time in nearly a week.

The moon was halfway above the distant mountains before she spoke. "Mother wondered if you were planning on leaving soon."

"Really?" Angelo chuckled ruefully. "And here I thought I'd done such a fine job of charming her."

Jessica bumped him with her shoulder. "That's not what she meant. She said you seem restless."

"Ahh."

"So what's wrong?"

"Just..." He shrugged. "A lot on my mind." His gaze was fixed on the moon, and she thought he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

He hadn't actually _said_ he wasn't leaving.

The realization made things swim out of focus for a moment, until she blinked her eyes clear and pushed the unexpected pain back. It wasn't like she'd asked him to escort her home from Savella Cathedral, after all, nor had she asked him to stay. She didn't know _why_ he'd stayed, apart from the fact he'd won her mother over with appalling ease and been invited to remain their guest indefinitely. After the first week, when he'd delighted the children of the town by turning sword and bow demonstrations into impromptu lessons, she hadn't even questioned his continued presence.

"Are you going to be here for the autumn festival?"

"Unless you know something I don't." The hand which had been resting impersonally on her shoulder slid down her arm. "You need someone here to keep you out of trouble, after all."

"Is that what you've been doing?"

"It's what I'm doing now."

"You're starting a week late." She sighed. "I'm completely out of my depth."

"But at least you were willing to dive in. And if I know you, you'll learn to swim in time."

"If I don't..." She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "No one will care I only had a little over two weeks to do everything."

"I think you underestimate the people of Alexandria."

"Alistair..."

"The only one comparing you to your brother is you," he interrupted, his voice sharp. Jessica looked up, startled, and he amended in a milder tone, "Well, you and your mother. I don't hear that nonsense from anyone else."

"And of course you hear everything."

"Almost. Drunks and children are excellent sources of gossip." His hand wrapped loosely around her arm, fingertips tracing along the skin of her inner wrist. "You should join us sometime."

She smiled in spite of herself. "You and the drunks?"

"The _children_ would love to show off for you, you know," he said, not rising to the bait. "Though I'd say tales of your heroism are somewhat overblown."

With one arm pinned between them, and the other captured by his hand, she settled for shoving her shoulder against him until he stumbled sideways, pulling her with him. The dew-soaked grass was slick beneath them, and by the time they caught their balance Jessica was wrapped securely against his chest.

Laughter died in her throat as he slid his hand up her spine, to rest on the back of her neck. "You look better," he observed, his intense gaze as disconcerting as his touch. "You should laugh more often."

"Then you need to spend more time with me, don't you?"

"Do I, now?" He smiled, and his hand tightened a little before he leaned forward to brush his lips warmly against hers. "I think I can manage that."


End file.
